The Day My Past Caught Up With Me
by Lyle's9mm
Summary: (1st person) Jarod runs into Lyle in a bar, kid-a-naps him, and tortures him. Everyone should love this one. (Fun for all Lyle toruterors.) -& yet i'm in love with Lyle...how does that figure?- R&R, cause it's my first one. hope you like.


The Day My Past Caught Up With Me…

Declaimer: I fully discredit all my involvement in creating any characters of the TV show The Pretender, and commend everyone who played a part in the real invention of the most wonderful characters of such a great show. In short I didn't make the characters, the Pretender creators did. Including; Mr. Lyle, Miss. Parker, Sydney, Broots and, of course, Jarod.

The Day My Past Caught Up With Me…

By: 

Carrie Beth 

Johnson

CHAPTER 1: The Loser

Dave's Pub & Bar

Inner state 109:

As I walked into the Bar, and I could already smell the wonderful aroma of liquor that would soon be running down my throat, cooling my body and numbing my senses. The smoke surrounding the place was unbelievably thick. And as I made my way through the maze of tables and drunks, I pulled out a cigarette and lighter. I lit the cigarette, taking a deep, sensuous drag and put the lighter back in my pocket. 

Looking around I notest the dreary sagging faces of the men surrounding me. The number of losers in the Bar was amazing. It never really occurred to me how many men sat around and did nothing on a Friday night. 

I sat down at the bar. "The usual." I said. And I began to wonder if my saying, 'the usual' and the bartender knowing exactly what I meant, made me a loser too. I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. _I didn't need to think like that...I wasn't even drunk yet. _

The bartender poured my drink and handed it to me, I nodded, picking it up. I could feel the cool condensation on the outside of the shot-glass, as I watched the bubbles quickly float to the top of the brownish liquid...And drank. I had about five or six after that, and by ten o'clock everything was a blur. It wasn't long until I began to ponder on my own pathetic meager existence.

Sometime later, a tall dark haired man sat down next to me, but I paid no attention to him. He had asked for some weak whisky. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but I was too drunk to bother about it. I ordered another shot, and was about to drink it when the man turned to me. I didn't look up, but I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my neck. 

"What...is your problem?" I asked rudely. 

He only looked at me, and with a devilish grin, said, "Hello Lyle!" 

My eyes widened. Fear shot through every vein in my body. Holy hell, it was Jarod. I almost fell out of my seat. I could see his evil smile and I was about to Blurt out something...when I decided against it. Instead I looked back at my glass and started laughing. Jarod just sat looking at me. I had not laughed that hard in a long time. 

Finally Jarod spoke, "What?" He stared at me curiously. 

"It's just you...only you would do this. You're the last person I ever expected to see here...P-sh." As I spoke, my words came out sounding ridicules, which made me laugh even harder. But I could tell that there was no joy in his eyes. "What's the matter, Jarod? Poopy day?" I almost gagged hysterically on my own words. 

"No." Jarod said quietly. He didn't move, which I thought was a bit odd. Frankly I couldn't keep still in my seat. I watched as Jarod's hand slowly tightened into a fist. 

"Oh I see, haven't found your parents yet, have ya?" My words were meant as a joke, but I should have known better, because Jarod always takes things personally. If I'd been in my right mine, I might have. 

Jarod was silent for what seemed a long time. I watch, somewhat dumbfounded, as Jarod solemnly looked at me...with his huge cheekbones and thick eyebrows...I couldn't help laughing again. And before I realized what had happened, Jarod swung his fist around and punched me in the jaw. I fell off the chair onto the greasy floor. Jarod stood up and cringed. He towered over me, as I lay sprawled on the floor, still dazed. I heard the murmur of voices flooding the room. And as I slowly sat up, I noticed red spots on my shirt. Blood. I lifted my weak hand to my mouth, and then peered back down at my hand again. A lot of blood. 

After a few fumbles, I managed to get to my feet. I looked at Jarod. I wanted to kick his guts out, but I could barley walk, so I wasn't sure how I could manage the task. Instead I collapsed to the floor again, laughing. Jarod just glared at me and walked away. 

It was then that I stopped laughing. I clumsily got up and looked around. The men in the bar glanced at me for a moment, then resumed their individual conversations. I decided to follow Jarod outside. Not the brightest idea that ever struck me upside the head, but I did. 

I swung the Bar doors open and peered around the corner. I saw Jarod getting into his car. "Hay." I yelled, "Hay, Jarod." I walked over to him, "What the hell was that for?" 

He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and through me up against his car. "Where the hell do you get off?" He screamed in my ear. 

My flimsy arms tried to push him off, but it was no use. "Jarod, please...I..." _My words were pointless to him I knew, but I really wasn't sure what to say. I mean, really, what do you say to a person whose life you stole and whose brother you murdered?_ I wasn't able to say anything elts, for he began to choke me. It was then that I realized that it was a bad idea to come out here. Fear began to flush over me. _My God_, I thought. _He_ _really is gonna kill me._ I began to struggle harder. I could see the anger burning in his eyes. 

"Why?" He Screamed, "Why can't you tell me where my parents are?" His voice became erratic. "Dammit, why can't you tell me the truth?"

I could not breathe, He had his arms firmly around my neck, tighter then a bird between two three ton beams. He did let off, though just in the nick of time...but not before he slugged me one. I fell down on the rocky gravel, clutching my stomach in pain and gasping for air. When my breath finally came back, I looked up at Jarod and leaned against the car door. "Jarod...If we told you, then we'd never catch you, because you'd have no reason to come back to us." I shook my head and smiled. "It doesn't really matter anyway." I finish confidently.

He grabbed me by the collar again. "It matters to me." He screamed. 

I did not flinch, but only turned my head away and swallowed hard. I was then suddenly overcome by anger. I looked him dead in the eye. On any other day I wouldn't have the balls to do so. "No, no, no Jarod. You don't say that. I...Y-You're lucky you don't know your past. I've spent fifteen years trying to forget mine." The words seemed to fumble their way out of my mouth. Jarod stared at me confused. But I was being truthful this time. With that Jarod let me go and backed away. "Besides, the Centre is your past." I spat out regrettably. 

I watched as Jarod turned his back to me. His every movement seemed to be uncertain of what to do next. There was a long silence, which neither Jarod nor I wanted to break. 

Finally Jarod turned back to me. And surprising me, Jarod walked swiftly over and knelt down beside me, speaking directly in my ear. "Yes, and unlike you, I never got to choose my past. Did I?" His voice was firm and harsh. 

I didn't look at him. I couldn't look at him. There was just something about him that drove me crazy. I felt sick to my stomach. And it was then that I realized that I was blacking out. I looked up at Jarod, and before long I couldn't even see him. I moaned in the darkness, felling to the pavement and lost consciousness. Little did I know, but the next time I woke up, I would be in hell.

CHAPTER 2: The Confused 

Jarod's Car

Somewhere:

My eyes suddenly flew open, trying to adjust to the darkness. I tried to sit up, but my hands were tied to my belt and my feet were also tied to something I couldn't see. The place I was in kept shaking, and I believed that I was in a car. My mind was foggy, and it took a while to remember what had happened before. 

_Holy shit!!! Jarod... The bar..._

It all came back to me now, including the hangover. Had that bastard kid-a-napped me? 

__

Damn him.

I was about to yell at him when I realized that I was gagged. Looking over I saw a figure driving...Jarod. That rat bastard. I watched his eyes slowly shift over to the rearview mirror and stare right at me. 

"Ooo, what are doing awake, Mr. Lyle?" He said sarcastically, like a mother scolding her children.

Jarod pulled the car to the side of the road, got out and opened the back seat door. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me upright. 

"Good night, Mr. Lyle. Or should I say, Bobby." He grinned and knocked me out again. 

Chapter 3: The Tortured

Jarod's Torture Chamber:

"Mr. Lyle? Hello? Wake up sleepy head. Wake up, Lyle. WAKE UP!!!" The voice echoed through my head over and over. It felt like The Almighty was talking to me. 

My eyes slowly opened to the horror that would soon befall me.

I looked around just to find myself sprawled on a metallic table, with both my arms and legs were chained to it. 

Jarod stood above me, smiling. He held a very large knife in his hand, and he waved it around my face, tormenting me. The light that reflected off the knife hurt my eyes, because the room was completely dark, except for one little dim lamp in the corner.

Jarod leaned his arms on the table as he spoke. "I heard how you like to cut people up. So I thought that it would be really neat if you got a taste of your own medicine." He stood up and walked around the table. "Now don't worry. I'm not going to...eat you. I don't think I could eat anyone. But I figure that I could at least teach you a lesson that you'll never forget." His eyes burned with a deceitful glee. 

He drew the knife near my face. 

_Oh my holy damn, I'm screwed._

"Jarod, please..." I pleaded, swallowing hard.

"Shhh, don't beg. You make me sick when you do that." Jarod said in a very dark voice. "Don't worry its only going to hurt for a few...weeks." He brought himself right next to my ear. "That is unless I accidentally kill you first." 

He took the knife and nicked my cheek with it. Surprised, I gave out a little yelp. The blood trickled down the side of my face and into my ear. It wasn't too painful, but I knew that it was just the beginning.

"Oh darn, it's going to be a long night." Jarod left my view for a moment. 

I lay there too petrified to move. And yet I knew that I had to get out of here or I would be dead within hours. Fear flooded every single vein in my body. There was no point in trying to get away, cause all I could move was my head.

When Jarod returned, he brought with him a tray containing the biggest damn collection of knives I ever saw, like small saws, big thick ones, tiny knives, hooks, and every other kind of blade known to man. He selected a thick one and walked back over to me. My eyes widened. 

"Oh gosh, Jarod. Please no...I'll do anything..." I graveled again.

"Shhh, hush. You're begging again. That's not going to get you out this little...situation." He gave a small laugh. 

Jarod suddenly jumped on the table, straddling me. He took the knife and used it to rip open my shirt, but he accidentally cut my chin in the process. 

"Ops, sorry." He joked.

He then ran his knife along my abdomen, screwing with my mind, as I wondered when he was going to stick the cold metal into my flesh.

"You know, when you're experiencing great pain, I've learned that if you take your mind to another place, it's not as painful. I suggest you do that, if you want to survive." A little grin appeared on his face. Obviously he hadn't forgotten all the times I'd used electric shock therapy on him. 

"Ok, Lyle, I'm giving you one more chance to tell me the truth. If you tell me then I consider not torturing you. Instead, I'll just kill you...Or maybe, just maybe, I'll let you go." Jarod said.

I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get out of this without being physically of mentally harmed in some way. And with that belief, I answered, "Go to hell, Jarod."

Jarod's eyes flared with burning hatred at my answer. "Well that's too bad I guess." He said with an evil sneer. 

By this time fear had taken me over and I swallowed hard, as he pressed the knife lightly into my skin. And he began his slicing and dicing. This was my cue to begin the screaming and yelling. 

Jarod, that damn bastard, was taking his damn time. He was slowly cutting up my stomach. And it wasn't long before I was cursing at him, and at all of existence. I struggled and screamed. The metal shackles were rubbing into my wrist and ankles. "Damn you, Jarod. Damn you! You piece of shit, shit..." Marilynn Manson would have disowned me for the words that came out of my mouth that night. 

He didn't listen to me, though, he just kept on with his slicing. The pain was unbearable. 

When he was finally done with my stomach, he jumped off and walked out of my eye range again. I could feel my blood running down on the table. I tried to think, but my thoughts were almost immediately interrupted by Jared's return. He carried with him something that surprised me...A salt shaker. 

"What the hell are you going to do with that?" I asked, half-curious and half scared out of my wits. Though I did try to sound confident. Because I didn't want him to think that he'd gotten the better of me. 

Jarod pulled up a chair next to the table. "Its an old Indian, how shall we say, invention. During the French and Indian war, when they would capture a solder from the enemy camp, they would rub salt into their wounds as a means of torturing the victim until they told them what they wanted to know." The story I hoped was going to last longer, but he finished saying, "It's really very effective."

Then he began shaking the salt all over my chest and stomach. At first I only felt a little tingle of pain, and I thought; this wasn't so bad. He probably just made up that story.

"It ain't that bad." I stated.

He eyed my suspiciously. "It takes a few seconds." He replied. And it was then that the little tingle turned into a burning and then into an excruciating pain. Jarod opened the salt shaker and poured the salt all over the cuts on my stomach. The next thing he did was the most painful thing thus far; he pressed the salt hard into my skin, making the pain beyond words. And I swear that I had never screamed that loud and that high pitched in my life. 

"My goodness, Lyle, you scream like a little girl." He mocked. 

"You bastard!!!" I screamed, my voice becoming horse from all the yelling. 

"Oh, calm down, Mr. Lyle. Remember, I did give you the chance to be spared this agony. But I suppose that you're too proud to do that. Just remember what they say; pride goes before a fall. And trust me, your fall has just come." Jarod said just as he pressed his hand into my stomach sending one more burst of pain through my body. I cursed badly one last time.

After a few minutes the excruciating pain was gone and all that was left was a constant throbbing, which was very painful, but bearable.

Once again Jarod left my sight and when he returned, he placed a funny smelling white cloth over my mouth. The next second I realized what he was doing. He was trying to put me under. I began to struggle but it was too late and could feel my mussels weakening and my senses fading. Everything became blurry and dark. I was out within seconds. 

Chapter 4: The Shocked

Jarod's Torture Chamber:

My eyes flew open at the awful smell of strong perfume that Jarod was waving under my nose. "Aw, that's nasty." Were the first words out of my mouth. 

"Nice to know you're awake, sleeping beauty." Jarod said, smirking. 

Looking around, I found to my surprise and dismay that I was tied to a chair and my feet were tied together while in a metal bucket of water. My hands were tied to the arms of the chair. I tried to wiggle my way out of the ropes, but Jarod had convinced me it was a bad idea. I also saw something that looked like a car battery with jumper cables connected to it. A sickening feeling over took me, cause I knew what they were for...electric shock therapy.

"Do you remember how much fun we had with these at the Centre? I figured that it would make you feel right at home." Jarod said. He picked up the other ends of the jumper cables and attaches them to the rim of the metal bucket. I quickly used all my strength to raise my feet out of the water. 

"No, no, no. You have to keep your feet in the bucket, or it's not any fun." Jarod said, putting on two rubber gloves. 

He pushed my legs back into the water, sending the most horrifying burst of electricity through my body. I screamed. 

I was in the middle of a nightmare from which I could not escape. The pain would surge though me while I was yelling and wailing, begging and cursing. 

"Gees, maybe now that you know how painful it is and you won't use this treatment on other people." Jarod said sarcastically.

"Damn you, Jarod. I'll get you for this." I swore. 

"Not after what I've got in store for you." Jarod threatened. His eyes were on fire.

I had never seen such satisfaction in his eyes, then at that moment.

After about a half an hour of the electric shock treatment, my body had had enough and shut down. I began to black out while the room seemed to close in on me. With one more electric shock running through me, I went unconscious.

Chapter 5: The delusional 

Jarod's Torture Chamber: 

_Water; _was the first thought I had.

"Wake up!!!" Jarod yelled in my ear, splashing a glass of water in my face. "What do you think this is, a Holiday Inn?" He gave a sardonic laugh. 

My body was beyond tired, and all I could say was, "Please..."

"Shut up!!! You talk when I tell you to talk." Jarod exclaimed.

"Screw you." I whispered.

"Well you'd need a screw to do that, now wouldn't you?" Jarod said, kneeling down next to me, as I sat, tied to the chair.

He then began to untie my hands and feet. I would normally be on my feet and out the door at this point, but my body was dead and I had absolutely no strength left. I really didn't believe that I could even walk. 

When Jarod was done untying me, he helped me stand up and almost carried me over to the wall. I had all my support on him, and when he let me go I fell flat on the ground. 

"Get on your knees." He commanded.

I didn't move. I couldn't move.

"Get on your knees!!!" He repeated.

I used all my might to obey him. And I swore to myself that, if I got out of this alive, I would kill him.

Jarod grabbed my hand and shackled it to the wall above me and then did the same with the other. 

All my body's weight hung on my wrists. And I began to lose circulation in my hands. I would use all my strength attempting to relieve the stress in my wrists. 

Jarod left momentarily and returned carrying a needle.

"What's that for?" I asked, weakly.

"Well you see, I knew that it was impossible to insinuate as much terror as you have insinuated into all your victims. I figured the best torturer is you. So this time you're going to torture yourself." Jarod explained.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Hallucinations, delusions...Drugs, Mr. Lyle." Jarod stated. "They work miracles for the torturer. It's a lot less work, cause you do all the work. You'll drive yourself insane." Jarod finished smiling. 

I swallowed, trying to wake myself up. "Jarod..." Was the last coherent thing I said before he injected the drugs into my arm. The drugs took effect almost immediately after injection. The room seemed to be changing shape. The colors and lights would flow together as one. Bright flashes of light...And suddenly I was in the past, but not just any past...My past. I found myself in my father's tool shed. I knew the place all too well, even after all these years. I screamed, pulling on the chains. 

__

No, not again. 

I had left that life a long time ago. 

I heard Jarod's voice, which seemed to change into my father's. He would call me horrible things. Telling me that I was nothing, and that I might as well kill myself. 

I began to shake, and I could feel the sweat coming off my forehead and back. The shed was getting smaller and smaller, suffocating me. I struggled wildly, trying to escape. I had to get out of there. 

"Damn you, Mr. Lyle!!!" I yelled, referring to my adoptive father. I felt every mussel in my body cramp up. 

There were more flashes of light, and sounds. Something was coming to get me. As the monster drew nearer, I felt myself turn white. I could feel it eating me alive. I screamed and yelled, pleading for help. The darkness engulfed my entire soul at that moment, and I felt myself slowly fading away into the most terrifying abyss a man could ever know. A place where everything about a man is stripped away, leaving only loneliness, pain and fear. And I knew all too well that no man could survive on these things. 

I sat in that dark abyss for what seemed like hours. Struggling, screaming and cursing. Horrified as my demons came out to haunt me. They seemed to come out scratch at me, as I peered through the murky darkness. I tried to run but I could not get off my knees. Then I heard them...The voices. The voices in my head. They echoed throughout my entire being. Taunting me. Then suddenly, almost as soon as they come, they voices vanished. Leaving me in a cold and bitter silence. It was at that moment that I could not take it anymore, and with everything I had left, I screamed. I screamed louder and longer than anyone I had ever known. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. My vision faded and I was gone. 

Chapter 6: The Broken

Jarod's Torture chamber:

It took a long time for my eyes to get used to lack of light, and to remember where in the hell I was. But my memory soon returned and I was disappointed to find myself still standing on my knees, chained up. 

My mind was largely foggy, though, because I had no idea how long I'd been here. My stomach growled. Looking down I realized that I had vomited. My last meal was all over the floor and all over my chest. 

I didn't see Jarod anywhere around. 

__

He didn't just leave me here to die, did he? 

"Jarod?!! Jarod?!!" I yelled, but there was no answer. 

It was then that I knowtest the piece of paper stuffed between my left wrist and the shackle. I managed to pull it out and unwrap it with one hand. 

It read: 

Mr. Lyle, if you look at 

your right hand, you will 

see a knife tied to it. I 

thought that it might come 

in handy if you wanted to 

kill yourself. Don't bother 

trying to use it to escape. 

The blade is too wide. Anyway, 

I have some erruns to run. 

So I should be back in a day.

As you always say, 'It's all 

about survival.'

~Jarod~

I did as the letter said, and sure enough there was a knife hanging from my wrist. But I wasn't giving that bastard the edge. If he wanted me dead he'd have to do it himself.

I sat there, not moving, my knees killing me. Maybe he'd left the note hours ago, and maybe he'd be back in a couple hours. But then again, maybe he left ten minutes ago. A sickening feeling came over me, and I threw up again. It must have been the side effect of the drugs. 

For the next five hours I had what people called 'Cold Turkey.' An inner city slang for the side effects of powerful drugs. Kind of like when you get a hangover after drinking too much the night before. 

My body then started toshake because I was freezing, then I would shake some more cause I was too hot. After that I would throw up and then the process repeated its self over and over. Those five hours were truly a living hell for me.

Some time later I, once again, lost conscious...

Chapter 7: The Freed 

Jarod's Torture chamber:

I had a dream that I was safely in my apartment, watching a football game, eating a baloney sandwich, and I had not a care in the world. A tranquil peace filled my soul. Then there was a knock at the door. Slowly getting up and walking over to the door, I looked through the peephole. It was someone I hadn't seen in a long time. Quickly opening the door, I began to greet him, but he had disappeared. Instead, I kept hearing my name being called. I turned around and then looked back at the doorway. The voices got louder and louder. The dream soon faded completely white. 

The next thing that I saw was a black-looking blob. But when my eyes became clearer, I realized that the blob was a gun. A gun? The thought struck me like a bullet. Jarod was going to kill me. 

I suddenly felt a throbbing pain in my cheek, when I was slapped. 

"Ahhh!!! No. Please, Jarod. No." I began to struggle and scream some more. The person started shaking me and calling my name. 

"Lyle. Lyle? What the hell is the matter with him?" A woman said. I then heard more voices.

"I think that Jarod was having a little fun." A voice said. 

"Nice thought, huh?" The woman replied. 

"Shouldn't we untie him?" A third voice asked.

My eyes finally cleared completely. I looked up, just to see Miss. Parker staring down at me in disgust. 

"Ah, I never thought that I'd want to see your face again." I joked.

"Aw, shut up, Lyle. What the hell did he do to you anyway?" Miss. Parker asked.

I was silent. I didn't really feel like telling her about me and Jarod's little torture sessions. "Just please untie me." I pleaded.

"Alright. Broots?" She said, motioning for him to help her. Together they untied Mr. Lyle. 

Another thought struck me. "How did you find me?" I asked, not even having the strength to look up at them.

Miss. Parker was giving me an evil glare. "We weren't looking for you. We were just following a lead on Jarod. We didn't even realized that you were missing." She finished smiling.

"Huh, nice to know I have friends who look out for me." I whispered to myself. 

"How long have you been here?" Sydney asked, eyeing me carefully.

"I have no idea." I replied.

"Well you look like shit. It's a good thing, for you, that we came or you'd probably be dead." She was suddenly looking at me funny and smiling. 

A terrified sickening feeling came over me. "What are you looking at?"

She waved for the others to come over. "What is it. Miss. Parker?" Sydney asked.

"Look." She said, pointing her flashlight at my stomach. 

I look down at my stomach with the rest of them. I hadn't knowtest it before. Where Jarod had been cutting my stomach, were the words; Jarod Was Here! Written in bloodstained slits across my skin.

Miss. Parker laughed, while the others just stared. 

"That rat bastard." I yelled.

Chapter 8: The Scarred

The Centre

Blue Cove, Delaware:

I sat alone in my office reminiscing on the past few days. I was, thankfully, not permanently hurt. That is of course except for the scars across my chest and stomach. Every once in a while, I would stand in front of the mirror and run my finger over the words engraved in my stomach. Jarod sure had a way of pissing people off. I was sure he'd done this just so that I would remember him every time I took off my shirt. 

"God forbid I should be thinking of a man when I'm half naked." I said quietly to myself, while I stared into the mirror. 

My thoughts were interupted by the opening of my office door. Embarrassed, I quickly pulled my shirt back down and tucked it in. 

It was Broots. His eyes fell to the floor in embarrassment as well. 

I rolled my eyes. "What's the matter, Broots? Never seen a real man's chest before?" I joked. 

"Ah, no. I've never seen your chest." Broots replied quietly. 

I looked at him, my head cocked. 

He seemed to look a little occward and uncomfortable, but he always seemed uncomfortable...especially when he was around me. But we were now working together to catch Jarod. Which, by all means, is not as easy as it sounds. 

"But, ah...Come on. We've got another lead on Jarod." Broots said quickly, changing the subject. It was as if he was too afraid to take his time in my presents. 

I nodded, "Thank you, Mr. Broots. I'll be right there." Sighing, I composed myself and left to find out what the group had discovered.

One thing was for sure. I now had one more reason to want Jarod back. He wasn't going to get away with this.

THE END


End file.
